Title: In Shadows Lurk
Rating: NC-17 for language; non-con; some hint of child abuse; and also hurt/comfort
Pairing: DiNozzo/Gibbs
Warning: Spoiler for Chained... and see rating above
Summary: What happened that night with Lane and Jeffrey? What's Gibbs going to do about it?



"I'm gonna do him!"

Tony struggled to move, struggled to push the hand that touched him. His eyes were open, focused on the two men standing over him... two men he knew... recognized... Lane... Jeffrey...

"He's going to help us! Make it happen! You're not going to touch him!" Pause. "He's mine anyway... I found him first and we agreed!"

The taller man pushed the smaller man who fell out of his line of vision as the mattress he lay on convulsed with the impact of a fallen body. "You can watch but I'm gonna have him then we're going get rid of him. I smell cop!"

Tony continued to fight internally. He was frozen, his mind barely focused. He was in a dangerous place... dangerous men... he had to get up...

"I thought that too but I'm pretty sure he's not!" The mattress shifted and moved then the smaller man was standing over him again. Slowly it was getting hard to see, to focus on what was happening. He was trapped... he had to get up... get out...

"Don't give a shit... I want his ass... you can have it afterwards. But it's mine now!" Hands gripped the waistband of Tony's pants. Fingers roughly worked at his fly. DiNozzo groaned... stop...

"No!"

Tony closed his eyes. It was too hard to stay alert. Something bad was happening but his mind didn't seem to know or care beyond giving into the urge to sleep. Vaguely he heard a struggle... an odd grunt that ended in the familiar odor of blood... a lot of blood. Danger... there was danger... he had to--


"Tony."

Voice full of need and desire. Tony sighed, too relaxed to open his eyes. He was comfortable. Warm. Aroused. A gentle hand touched his face... his neck... his pants, opening carefully.

"I wasn't going to let his filthy hands touch you," the voice assured as fingers whispered over his erection. "I'll protect you."

Protect. Tony frowned. No one protected him. Not his parents... not anyone... except--

"Gibbs?"

The fingers hesitated, began to pull away then returned, their owner sighing. "Girlfriend?"

Girlfriend? Tony smiled, amused. "Haven't had one of those in a very long time. Prefer boyfriends..." His mind halted. Why did he say that? He's never told Gibbs before... too dangerous... but Gibbs was touching him... stroking him...

"You're so beautiful," Gibbs-voice told him in a husky tone. "I'm glad you like boys because I like boys too."

He does? Tony wanted to open his eyes, some part of him knew this wasn't real but it was... Gibbs was stroking him... loving him... "Yeah... that's good..."

"I want to do a lot with you, Tony." The Gibbs-voice was needy. "But I want you to want it... not with that crap he gave you. But I have to touch you right now... have to know how you feel. I want to know what you look like when you cum... then whatever happens I'll always remember this..."

The strokes on his aroused cock became harder, faster, filled with purpose. Tony lost himself in the pleasure. He had wanted Gibbs for so long... so long... His hips arched up moving counter to the erotic friction as knowing hands and fingers worked him. He gasped as his cock was engulfed into the soft warmth of Gibbs' mouth. Tony petted the hair bobbing at his crotch, crying out as the suction drew him towards completion... Gibbs loved him... wanted him... Tony gave a final thrust... a final cry... his seed taken from him... swallowed...

Careful movements closed his pants, breath panted in his ear. "You're inside me now, Tony. Inside. You're a part of me... inside me..."



Inside me...

Tony jerked violently as fingers gently touched his neck. Instinctively he grabbed the offending hand, ready to defend himself--

"Anthony!"

Ducky's voice immediately brought DiNozzo into focus. Oh shit... He released the hand he was about to break. "Sorry," he said quickly, sincerely. He was sitting in a chair beside a long oaken table inside the conference room near the main bullpen back at NCIS headquarters. Gibbs asked Ducky to look him over even as Mallard was moving to DiNozzo's side, armed with a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. Tony sighed as he risked a look up at the older man, surprised and contrite. His mind had wandered to... something else... he didn't remember... "Did I hurt you?" he asked as he watched the Medical Examiner massage the palm of his hand. Great going, DiNozzo... break the hand of the best ME in the business.... Gibbs would love that...

Mallard's blue eyes were sharp as they appraised him. "I'm quite all right," he said reassuringly. "I'm going to have to put a couple of stitches in your neck I'm afraid." He touched his neck again, carefully lifting the hastily applied bandage just under his ear.

Stitches. Tony inwardly shivered. Jeffrey had tried to slit his throat. Tried to kill him. DiNozzo remembered the first hint of pain at the side of his neck but didn't remember shooting him. It was so quick... and the blood...

"Oh dear."

Heaving. Tony became aware of his body convulsing, vomiting. But there wasn't much to bring up. He hadn't eaten more than a sandwich or two since his undercover work began two days ago... two days...

"What's going on?"

Gibbs. Tony coughed then spat into the wastebasket that was suddenly on the floor under him. "Sorry," he muttered as he forced himself to gain control. Control. People assumed he had none but the oddest thing was it was because he worked so hard to make them believe that, controlled what they paid attention to in regards to him... his personal life... that they didn't see what he didn't want them to see.

"I believe events are catching up to him."

Events. Tony convulsed but nothing came up. He was done... for the moment. "Sorry, Boss."

There was a non-committal grunt beside him, a hand on his back. "Sorry for what?" The hand moved in an aborted caress across his shoulders then lifted, leaving behind a cold that raised goose bumps on his skin. "You did a good job, Tony."

Praise. It was the best he could hope for with his supervisor and the most he was willing to accept. He looked up, forcing a smile to his lips. "Thanks, Boss!"

Steel blue eyes assessed him as the ex-Marine's face remained oddly neutral. A tiny butterfly with razor sharp wings briefly fluttered in Tony's stomach. What's wrong?

"You're going home," Gibbs said with authority as his gaze moved to Ducky. "And tomorrow?"

The Medical Examiner shook his head a bit. "He's slightly dehydrated... a bit uncoordinated. I'm putting a couple of stitches in that nick on his neck." He paused as Gibbs shifted, as his boss' hands clenched. Tony frowned. In spite of the compliment, something was wrong. "I think he should be out for the rest of the week."

"No way!" Tony exploded, surprising himself as well as the two men standing in front of him. "I'm fine! I went out, got the bad guy and got a little cut!" He met Gibbs' eyes. "I got worse in Baltimore and I didn't take time off!"

"I can make it official, Anthony," Ducky countered quietly. His expression was kind but determine.

Tony stood, ignoring the jitters in his muscles, the spasm in his stomach. He was taller than Mallard and slightly taller than Gibbs. He rarely made a deal of it but he wasn't going to be treated like he was a--

"I agree with Ducky," Gibbs said without hesitation. "You're off duty until Monday morning."

"Son of a--" Tony stopped himself as he realized how much control he was losing... in front of Ducky and his boss. What the hell's wrong with me? He saw an odd expression ripple across Mallard's face. "What aren't you telling me?" he demanded as puzzle pieces began float together in his mind. Gibbs' expression was hard as his eyes also fixed on the Medical Examiner in muted command.

Ducky sighed, his own eyes moving between both men then rested on Tony. "Jethro, could you step out a moment? Let me have a private chat?"

In response Gibbs seem to drift closer to DiNozzo as if to shield even as confusion creased his brow. A faint lifting of lips graced Mallard's face but his stance held authority. "Please, Jethro. I'll call you back in a few minutes."

Gibbs studied Ducky then Tony then turned in concise movements and left the room, closing the door behind him. Tony watched the scene play out, anxiety building as he wondered what had to be said in private... already knowing the answer... deep within...


Inside me...

Tony jerked violently as fingers gently touched his neck. Instinctively he grabbed the offending hand, ready to defend himself--

"Anthony!"

Ducky's voice immediately brought DiNozzo into focus. Oh shit... He released the hand he was about to break. "Sorry," he said quickly, sincerely. He was sitting in a chair beside a long oaken table inside the conference room near the main bullpen back at NCIS headquarters. Gibbs asked Ducky to look him over even as Mallard was moving to DiNozzo's side, armed with a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. Tony sighed as he risked a look up at the older man, surprised and contrite. His mind had wandered to... something else... he didn't remember... "Did I hurt you?" he asked as he watched the Medical Examiner massage the palm of his hand. Great going, DiNozzo... break the hand of the best ME in the business.... Gibbs would love that...

Mallard's blue eyes were sharp as they appraised him. "I'm quite all right," he said reassuringly. "I'm going to have to put a couple of stitches in your neck I'm afraid." He touched his neck again, carefully lifting the hastily applied bandage just under his ear.

Stitches. Tony inwardly shivered. Jeffrey had tried to slit his throat. Tried to kill him. DiNozzo remembered the first hint of pain at the side of his neck but didn't remember shooting him. It was so quick... and the blood...

"Oh dear."

Heaving. Tony became aware of his body convulsing, vomiting. But there wasn't much to bring up. He hadn't eaten more than a sandwich or two since his undercover work began two days ago... two days...

"What's going on?"

Gibbs. Tony coughed then spat into the wastebasket that was suddenly on the floor under him. "Sorry," he muttered as he forced himself to gain control. Control. People assumed he had none but the oddest thing was it was because he worked so hard to make them believe that, controlled what they paid attention to in regards to him... his personal life... that they didn't see what he didn't want them to see.

"I believe events are catching up to him."

Events. Tony convulsed but nothing came up. He was done... for the moment. "Sorry, Boss."

There was a non-committal grunt beside him, a hand on his back. "Sorry for what?" The hand moved in an aborted caress across his shoulders then lifted, leaving behind a cold that raised goose bumps on his skin. "You did a good job, Tony."

Praise. It was the best he could hope for with his supervisor and the most he was willing to accept. He looked up, forcing a smile to his lips. "Thanks, Boss!"

Steel blue eyes assessed him as the ex-Marine's face remained oddly neutral. A tiny butterfly with razor sharp wings briefly fluttered in Tony's stomach. What's wrong?

"You're going home," Gibbs said with authority as his gaze moved to Ducky. "And tomorrow?"

The Medical Examiner shook his head a bit. "He's slightly dehydrated... a bit uncoordinated. I'm putting a couple of stitches in that nick on his neck." He paused as Gibbs shifted, as his boss' hands clenched. Tony frowned. In spite of the compliment, something was wrong. "I think he should be out for the rest of the week."

"No way!" Tony exploded, surprising himself as well as the two men standing in front of him. "I'm fine! I went out... got the bad guy and got a little cut!" He met Gibbs' eyes. "I got worse in Baltimore and I didn't take time off!"

"I can make it official, Anthony," Ducky countered quietly. His expression was kind but determine.

Tony stood, ignoring the jitters in his muscles, the spasm in his stomach. He was taller than Mallard and slightly taller than Gibbs. He rarely made a deal of it but he wasn't going to be treated like he was a--

"I agree with Ducky," Gibbs said without hesitation. "You're off duty until Monday morning."

"Son of a--" Tony stopped himself as he realized how much control he was losing... in front of Ducky and his boss. What the hell's wrong with me? He saw an odd expression ripple across Mallard's face. "What aren't you telling me?" he demanded as puzzle pieces began float together in his mind. Gibbs' expression was hard as his eyes also fixed on the Medical Examiner in muted command.

Ducky sighed, his own eyes moving between both men then rested on Tony. "Jethro, could you step out a moment? Let me have a private chat?"

In response Gibbs seem to drift closer to DiNozzo as if to shield even as confusion creased his brow. A faint lifting of lips graced Mallard's face but his stance held authority. "Please, Jethro. I'll call you back in a few minutes."

Gibbs studied Ducky then Tony then turned in concise movements and left the room, closing the door behind him. Tony watched the scene play out, anxiety building as he wondered what had to be said in private... already knowing the answer... deep within...

"Sit down, Tony," Ducky ordered kindly as he also took a seat.

Tony... not Anthony... bad sign. Tony pulled out a chair and sat down. "Just lay it on the line, Ducky," he demanded. "I don't like preamble."

Mallard grunted in a faintly amuse fashion. "All right. I had the EMTs take blood from you at the scene for a reason." He folded his hands in front of him. "Jeffrey had killed three other men... before he killed Lane. While Gibbs was getting to you I had a chance to fully review their autopsy results. All of them had been... assaulted in one form or fashion. Only Lane was spared this. But his blood alcohol was well over the legal limit and was mixed with another drug... some homemade form of GHB."

GHB. Tony shivered. His mind flashed to a moment when Lane had held out the bottle to him... whiskey? DiNozzo was undercover, a hardened criminal... an escaped convict. It would have been suspicious to turn down at least a swallow, especially since it felt like a test. Jeffery's attraction to him was obvious and as far as he was concerned, benign. But Lane's expression was feral, even predatory. Still he had just seen the man take a swallow. If there was something in it and he just took a little he figured it would be all right... hopefully. The gesture seemed to satisfy his host who left the room.

But ten minutes later DiNozzo knew there was something wrong. He had planned to just lie on the bed and listen to any conversations the two men might have. But as the first flush of sensation rushed through his body, he knew even a swig had been a mistake. He didn't know what kind of constitution Lane had but Tony knew his own could be a bit sensitive. DiNozzo struggled to keep his eyes open but the bed felt so good after all he had been through. The relative warmth of the house was a balm after the wet and chill of the outside. He heard voices near him, knew he should pay attention but it was too much trouble...

I'm gonna do him!

DiNozzo was up, aggressively pacing as memories teased. GHB? He reached out a hand towards a chair as he turned around quickly and lost his balance. Balance. Vomiting. "Oh shit." His eyes widened as he saw the understanding in Mallard's eyes. Assaulted. "No."

Ducky pursed his lips. "Your blood alcohol was zero but there were faint traces of whatever they made you take in your system and it matched what we found in a liquor bottle lying on the floor of the cabin. That's why I had samples taken before you returned here. I wanted to be sure I could test for the drug in your system so I could monitor and make sure you didn't suffer any dangerous side effects." His eyes scanned over Tony. "You're blood pressure is a little low. But your heart is fine. Your reflexes are not up to their usual excellence but that will improve. Your bouts of nausea should fade. And your temper," he smiled at Tony; "Should calm by tomorrow."

Tony glared at him then growled and turned away as he accepted the truth of Ducky's words. He had been drugged with some form of a "date rape" drug. He wiped his hands over his eyes as he tried to remember. There had been voices... sharp voices... the odor of blood...

Tony shivered, pushing back the vague whispers. "They didn't do anything," he said in an attempt to convince himself and the Medical Examiner.


Gibbs...

I'll protect you...


"Tony, I want to examine you."

Anger and fear suddenly erupted from within. Control was lost. DiNozzo rounded on the older man, leaned into Mallard's personal space as he barely kept his temper in check. "No," he said simply... quietly... dangerously. "They didn't... do... anything... because I'd know... been there... done that..." He locked his eyes on him. "Got it?"

Ducky didn't seem the least intimidated but his eyebrows rose with indefinable emotion. "Yes, Anthony. I... got it."

Guilt filtered into the chaotic emotions claiming him. Tony straightened up and backed off. Ducky eyes followed him calmly, still unafraid but cautious. DiNozzo wanted to apologize but his darker, undercover soul wouldn't let him. He grabbed his jacket. Over two years. Good record. Hopefully. Of course as my father reminded me often enough... I wouldn't amount to being anything other than some terd on the streets... maybe he's right...

"I'm your friend, Tony," Ducky said clearly... firmly. "We're all your friends. I want to help you... make sure you're all right. It wouldn't be anywhere in your records. I promise you that."

Promise. DiNozzo studied him. Sincere. His rage receded back into that gray void he had been lurking in. "I know you're trying to help," he admitted. "But I know I'm okay... that way."

Mallard sighed then nodded. "The blood test results will have to be in my report but that will simply be a detail, along with your explanation that you were forced to consume whatever you were given. Everything else is confidential." He walked up to Tony. "Please take the time. Rest." He took out a card and handed it to DiNozzo. "That is my private address and cell number." He patted Tony's arm paternally. "Only Jethro and Gerald know... other than others who must know. Please call me for anything... anytime. All right?"

Tony's mouth went dry as he barely glanced at what he was given. The Holy Grail of information in the bullpen. Ducky's actual address and phone number. He didn't know why it was such a secret though he suspected the older man was many things before he was an NCIS Medical Examiner. If not for the circumstances he would have been grinning ear to ear as if he had just won the lottery but then he suspected he wouldn't have been worthy of getting the information to begin with. Now... He gave Mallard a shy grin, his mood swinging towards the positive for the moment.

"Thanks, Ducky," he said respectfully. He was never going to use it. As of Monday he would officially resign... find something else. The whole case had screwed him up, especially in what he could only barely remember... then not remember... then remember as something else... a long time ago...


Fucking fag! Fucking fag! This is what it's like to be a fucking fag!


"Anthony!"

Tony flinched away from the hand that gripped his shoulder then stopped before he struck out. "Don't touch me!" His vision was blurring. Damnit! I. Am. Not. Going. To. Cry! His roughly wiped his face. "I gotta go," he said abruptly without looking up.

Mallard presence drew closer then away in respect of what Tony asked. "My boy," he said, his voice a shade unsteady. "Please call me... and don't be afraid of Jethro. He... cares a great deal about you."

Ducky's tone advised. Warned. Tony stared at him in surprise. Gibbs cared? "He cares about all his agents." His eyes narrowed. "You're going to tell him... about the drug."

"I have to. It'll be in the report. But don't worry, Tony. It's not a mark against you. In fact it will explain possible vagueness in some parts of your report... hmm?"

Yeah. But it won't matter. Tony shrugged. "Tell him what you like," he said abruptly as his darker side returned to protect his heart from what he knew he needed to do. "I gotta go."

He opened the door... and found himself face to face with Jethro Gibbs who was leaning against the wall across the corridor. His supervisor's expression was expectant. DiNozzo gave his soon to be ex-boss a pleasant grin. "Hey, boss!"

Gibbs straightened up, his eyes on DiNozzo. "You all right?"

"Never better!" Tony put on his jacket. He would be as polite as his patience would allow then go. "See ya later!" He turned, determined to stay calm as he headed for the elevator doors. Maybe McGee would pack the few things he wanted from his desk and mail them.

"DiNozzo, wait!"

Hand on his arm... from behind... Tony pulled away and faced his attacker... his heart pounding into his throat as instinct conflicted with knowledge. Gibbs. "Don't fucking do that!" He held his hands up protectively. He didn't want to be touched... not by Gibbs. His emotions, dark and light, were too close to the surface after his talk with Ducky, too shadowed...

Gibbs also held up his own hands in a more gentling manner, making no contact but not backing down. "It's okay, To--"

"Shut the fuck up!" That was it. DiNozzo felt his patience nerve snap. "It's not okay, Gibbs!"

"Anthony."

Calm. Parental. Ducky. Tony saw him coming out of the conference room, his expression controlled. DiNozzo deflated and leaned against the wall, his eyes on the floor, less a foot from the elevator doors and freedom...

"You almost made me forget about those stitches, young man," Mallard said calmly. "Kindly go down to my office and wait then Gibbs will have a service drive you home. You're in no condition to drive on your own."

Hint... threat. Tony pounded his fists into the wall behind him but gave a short nod. Without looking at Gibbs he walked to the elevator doors and punched the button, relieved when he got an almost immediate response, further please when he saw the cab was empty. Once inside he was tempted to simply ignore Ducky's command and go to the parking garage. What difference did it make? But instead he pushed the button to lead him to the morgue and hoped Mallard's dorky assistant wasn't within range when he got out.

Part 2 - SEE PART 1 for Warnings.

Also note: I am adding Incest as a warning. It will be mentioned. It will be somewhat discussed. But graphic details and description will NOT be in this... it is unnecessary. I didn't quite know in the beginning where this story would lead... now, in respect, I feel obligated to warn concerning this aspect.



Nearly half an hour later Ducky walked into his office with a silver instrument tray in hand. Gauze. Two swabs; one covered with a pinkish gel, the other with clear stuff. Needle. Suture. DiNozzo paused mid-pace to look at him expectantly. The cut on his neck was throbbing and felt weirdly open against the make-shift bandaging done at the scene. "How long will this take?" he asked abruptly. In respect of the old man he had done what he was told, waited. Now he wanted to leave.

"You'll be done in less than ten minutes," Mallard answered calmly. "Then you can go home and sleep off the rest of those nasty chemicals they gave you."

Reminder. Tony sighed then sat down in the chair Ducky indicated and concentrated on staying still as he waited for the first shot to deaden the area... for the stitches.

"I'm going to use a gel to numb the area, Anthony," the Medical Examiner said evenly. "No need to put more drugs in your system. It might pull and pinch more than usual but I only need to do a few stitches. All right?"

Choice. Control. DiNozzo nodded and closed his eyes, unwilling to watch. The gel was cool but heated quickly then all sensation faded along with the throbbing around his cut.

"No lectures tonight, young man," Ducky promised as dull pressure prodded his neck. "I don't think you're up for one. But I would like to give you a piece of advice if you're willing to listen."

Tony winced as another pinch, deeper, pushed into his skin. "Don't take whiskey from strangers?" he said sarcastically. "Although it really wasn't a choice."

"I know, Anthony. I told you. No one blames you." Another deep pinch. "Gibbs feels you did an excellent job." Pause. "He was very concerned for you."

Irritated by Mallard's tone, Tony pulled away slightly as the next pinch came. "I told you... he feels responsible for all of his agents."

Mallard grunted. His hand cupped Tony's chin firmly. "Please stay still. One more stitch then you're done."

Less than a minute later a soft cloth wiped at his skin, an odd sensation of feeling and not feeling. DiNozzo opened his eyes as Mallard leaned forward with a cotton swab with something clear on it. "What's that?"

"Triple antibiotic ointment. I'll give you what little I have to take home." He finished his work and stepped back. "You need to keep that dry a couple of days then just cover it when you shower. I'll take the stitches out next Wednesday. There should be little scarring."

Tony shrugged. It didn't matter. What was one more scar? Of course he would have to have someone else take the stitches out. "Thanks, Ducky."

"Glad to occasionally work on someone who can voice their appreciation," he responded with humor. He stripped off his gloves and began consolidating used items on his tray. "Now we'll see about getting you home."

"I can drive," Tony challenged again. He had driven himself and Jeffrey from that cabin to the storage facility. DiNozzo shivered at the flash of memory. I really didn't want to kill him... he had been... nice...


... I want you to want it...


Gibbs. Tony squeezed his eyes shut as the voice in his head... the one he had heard... changed to what it had been. Not Gibbs. It had been a lie. Not Gibbs... "Bastard!"

"Anthony, pay attention."

Ducky. Focus. Tony blinked then wiped at his eyes. Crying. "Fuck!"

"Here."

Tissues. Tony took then and dabbed at his eyes, humiliated. Tentative fingers touched his shoulder as if testing then gently gripped his upper arm. "I really screwed up!" he threw out, further embarrassed by the sobbing in his words.

"Not at all, my boy," Ducky responded. "Right now some of the after effects of the drug are still in your system. Everything is going to seem overwhelming for just a little while longer and some memories will return... but not all. Don't try to force it." Pause. "I want you to remember that I'm your friend... everyone here is. Jethro is also your friend in a way some people in his life never understood but I think you will." Fingers squeezed his arm then withdrew. "I still want to examine you... even if you're right... about things. But I won't push... I only want you safe, Tony."

Tony tensed as he heard the word "examine" then he forced himself to calm down. Ducky wouldn't force, wouldn't push... and after today it wouldn't matter. He would be gone. And what did he mean about Gibbs? Something Ducky and Cait had said a few months ago during one of their lunches... during the second terrorist case where Ari was involved... came to mind.


We can't divorce him, Ducky.

You wouldn't want to, my dear. No matter how gruff he becomes...


Tony stared at Mallard as shock wandered through him, as he remembered the brief glance the Medical Examiner gave him as he spoke. Ducky grunted at him, giving him the kind of smile he gifted on one of them when he knew the point had been made. Oh fuck... you're shitting me... The Medical Examiner held out his hand. Automatically Tony reached out and took the slightly oversized bandaid from him.

"I think you can put that on yourself." He picked up his tray. "Jethro's here to take you home."

Home. Jethro. Tony stood quickly, his balance wavering then stabilizing quickly. He turned around just as Ducky approached the door Gibbs had just stepped through. His boss' eyes were on him, looking him over as he would a suspect he was about to interrogate. Tony looked from one man to the other as he held his ground. "I don't think it's a good idea," he stated flatly.

"Tony, I'm just going to take you home," Gibbs' steel blue eyes flicked to Ducky then back. "That's all."

Lie! Anger rushed through DiNozzo in instant reaction. "I'm all right!" he yelled, losing control as he realized what Ducky might have said to his supervisor. No way am I going to have him near me! "I don't need you to hold my hand." His soul protested his words. All he wanted to do was feel Gibbs strength... his protection... help him put the shadows back...

"I'm not going to hold your hand, Tony," Gibbs said in a normal tone, his gaze less intimidating. "I'm going to drive you home and make sure you're all right. You've had a long, hard couple of days and I don't like the idea of you being by yourself." He shrugged casually. "If you don't want my company then I'll go. But you're my responsibility and I'm at least going to take you home."

Sincere. Something hopeful tickled him, gently brushed him. They were trying to help. Ducky patted Gibbs on the shoulder then left the room, leaving the door open. Tony thought a moment about walking out as well, without Gibbs. But as he observed his boss' stance he knew he would lose. Gibbs was driving him home... and something more. His mind shied from his suspicions. None of it made sense. Gibbs had to know for sure he was broken. Pity. Like everyone else he tried to get close to... once they knew...


But he doesn't know... everything... he can't... so maybe I'm just a failure... close enough to broken...


"Ready to go?"

Tony jerked back as Gibbs voice echoed in his ear... too close. Gibbs stood in front of him, watching... reaching out his hand as DiNozzo stumbled...

"Don't!" he hissed and put a hand on Ducky's desk to stop the fall. "You want to drive me home? Fine! Drive me home, boss! But don't--" Touch me.

Wrinkles furrowed Gibbs forehead. Puzzlement. Concern. Tony sighed as his emotions leveled out. He really had to get a grip on himself, drugs or not. "I'm sorry."

Gibbs studied him, considering. "If you don't want me to drive you home then I'll call for a service to do it. But I would like to... if you'll let me."

Choice? Tony took a deep breath then another. He was overreacting. Reading things into something that didn't exist. Gibbs was his supervisor... his friend... professionally. That he was the center of DiNozzo's sexual fantasies, that the drug Lane passed him in that piss water made him act out--


You're so beautiful...


"DiNozzo... tonight!"

Tony swallowed the bile that threatened and squared his shoulders. He gave Gibbs an old smile... as if nothing was happening... had happened... "Coming, boss."

The drive was silent. Gibbs' face showed no expression beyond calm patience. Exactly what DiNozzo wanted... thought he wanted. But by the time his supervisor turned the corner into the parking lot of his apartment house, Tony's skin was crawling with anxiety. He was going to be alone... with his thoughts... memories... near memories...


You think you can back talk me... you little fag! I'll teach you--


"Tony."

Touch. DiNozzo grabbed the one who touched him, pushing... already knowing his escape route... through the door...

"Tony!"

The touch firmed but held no anger, no threat. DiNozzo stared at Gibbs then at the ex-Marine's hand wrapped around his arm. "I'm sorry, boss." He said in apology... and appeal as he experimentally tried to pull his arm back. His boss' grip held. "Please," he said... almost begging. It was too close... too-

Gibbs carefully released him but his eyes held Tony in place. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said quietly. "All I want to do is help."

Truth. DiNozzo's vision blurred. Shit! Not here! Not in front of him... even if you aren't going to work for him anymore... Tony swiped at his eyes as he turned away and opened the passenger door. He was going to have to find some way to have his own car brought back because he didn't think he was going to be able to go back for it himself. "Thanks, boss... I'll be fine--"

"Let me come in with you... make sure you're all right."

Now Gibbs' tone held a certain appeal... a pleading. Tony wiped his eyes again and briefly studied the older man, his surprise turning to near shock as he saw the strain... the need. For me? Briefly torn he gazed out towards his apartment building then back to Gibbs. He didn't want to be alone but-- "Fuck!" he spat out as he realized he had no choice... none that would give him relief. "You want to babysit me? Fine!" He let anger push back weaker emotions as he got out and headed up the short path to the door of the building. If he reached his apartment door before Gibbs caught up then that would decide if the older man would be allowed in.

There was no contest. Gibbs was right behind him all the way up the elevator and to his door. Silent support. Care. Tony walked in and automatically turned on a lamp. It was late afternoon... mid-November. Near Thanksgiving but he had long ago stopped noticing, except on rare occasion, when his oldest friend could make it out from California and have dinner with him. But that hadn't happened in a few years. Since he had told Paul... and things changed between them... like they always did.

He put his wallet in a tray he kept on the breakfast bar then took off his shoulder rig and took out his gun. He put the rig in the closet and the gun in a case next to his football trophy next to the closet door. Then he toed off his shoes and went into the kitchen to wash his hands and face. Then he started to take off his shirt. He was dirty... all over dirty...

"Do you have coffee?"

The sound of another person startled him. Gibbs. He was here. Tony's heart pounded. He forgot Gibbs was here. How could he forget Gibbs was here? He immediately stopped undressing but ruthlessly kept himself from rebuttoning the flannel shirt. He turned to find Gibbs sitting on the bar stool on the other side of the breakfast bar. His expression was calm but watchful. Asking nothing... and everything. Tony sighed. Gibbs was staying for as long as his supervisor felt he needed to be here. DiNozzo pointed behind him. "There's grounds in the cabinet... I'm sure you know what to do." He shrugged. "I have a box of cereal but no milk. I cleaned everything out... before..." His assignment. It was suppose to be so cut and dry... so... "I'm going to take a shower," he announced to his boss. His skin was crawling.

Gibbs got up. "I'll be here if you need me," he assured gruffly.

"Why?" Tony struggled not to let his anger rise again. He just wanted to be left alone even as his soul cried out in protest at the prospect of being... left... alone...

Gibbs' expression softened. "Because I want to."

Direct. Honest. The beast within DiNozzo took pause. "I can take care of myself," he said without the force he had wanted to put into the words.

"I know you can," Gibbs replied without hesitation. "You did great on this assignment, Tony. You've done great on all the others before this one. You're a fine agent and one of the best to send undercover. If I didn't believe that you wouldn't have been on this case... period. "

Period. Tony swallowed. Praise. Gibbs didn't hand them out often and when he did they only came in brief three to four words phrases. Even on their yearly evaluation there was usually little written beyond what was necessary. DiNozzo always got an exceptional rating but during the rest of the year he would always wonder and doubt himself all over again. It was a familiar, vicious cycle, one that sent him job-hunting when the stress within himself got too much to bear. Start fresh. He always felt if he could just start out fresh... make it different...

"Tony, don't phase on me. Okay?"

Voice. Closer. Tony blinked. Gibbs was standing right in front of him, hands on hips in a forced position. But his expression was still unusually open. "I... uh..." Tony eyed the doorway behind his boss. Escape. "I really need to take a shower... wash off," he threw out and amended as he remembered Ducky's orders to keep the stitches dry.

Gibbs nodded and casually moved aside, giving Tony space as he moved past him and towards the cabinets above the counter. Coffee. "I'm not sure it's the brand you like--"

"It's fine, DiNozzo. Go wash off."

Order. Familiar. Tony relaxed. For the moment it was all right Gibbs was here. "If you want to," he began hesitantly. "There's a take out menu in the draw next to the sink. Pizza... if you want something to eat."

"How's your stomach?" Gibbs asked in reply.

DiNozzo thought about food and gauged the reaction to his digestive system. "I don't know if I can handle pizza," he said honestly. "But don't let that stop you--"

"I won't." Gibbs seemed to think a moment then shrugged. "I'll order you a plain turkey sub, just lettuce and tomato. You can eat what you like."

With the suggestion Tony's stomach gave a hesitant growl of approval. In spite of the tension around him he had to smile. "Okay, boss."

Part 3 - It's going to start getting a little heavy now... Read Parts 1 & 2 for ALL WARNINGS!


Blood. He had expected it. Smelled it on himself from the moment he pulled the trigger. The paramedics had cleaned his neck, even the side of his face before he could see himself. But the smell was still there... lurking...

Tony saw it right away as he finished stripping off his shirt. The initial spatter of blood before Jeffrey was thrown back, shot through the top of his head. DiNozzo stared at the stain. He hadn't had a chance to change. Gibbs had sent him to Ducky right away. What had been red was now dark and thick with little bits of what he was sure was body tissue. He had acted on instinct. As the first sting of Jeffrey's knife registered his hand went back was if it had a life of its own. The muzzle pressed beneath the other man's soft chin... his finger pulled the trigger without hesitation...


*Bam*


DiNozzo shook himself free of the tangent his mind had fallen on and dropped the shirt into the garbage. He quickly took of the rest of his clothes and tossed all of it, blood stained or not, into the small garbage pail, cursing as one piece of garment missed its mark. His underwear...

"Shit!" Annoyed Tony picked it up, ready to have it join the rest of the pile. Even clean he would never touch any of it again. But as his fingers gripped it he felt a stiffness, something spilled or--



Gibbs mouth, warm and moist, engulfed his cock. Tony's hands caressed the strands of hair, encouraging the sparks of pleasure that filled him then overflowed as he cried out... as Gibbs eagerly took his seed... swallowing...


You're inside me now, Tony. Inside. You're a part of me... inside me...



He didn't know when he started screaming but he was aware of being held, strong... hard... protected...


I'll protect you...


Tony fought but his captor held tighter... stronger... caring... From a distance he heard Gibbs' voice... speaking gently... commanding firmly... comforting directly...

"Tony, it's Jethro. Listen to me. Please listen to me. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm only holding you to make sure you don't hurt yourself. Come on, Tony. Come back to me. Tony..."

"Oh god!" Tony sobbed as he drew what seemed like his first breath. He lay on cold tile... his bathroom. He was naked but the one who held him was fully clothed. His arms and legs were held in a tight grip by the other's full body embrace. "Let go!" he cried out. It happened like this... middle of the night... when the other had been sober... too long...

"Shhh..." His captor relaxed a little but not enough for Tony to break free. "I'm not going to hurt you, Tony. It's Jethro. Do you understand?"

Jethro... Gibbs. Tony stopped fighting. Gibbs. Arms holding him relaxed further. Legs imprisoning him unwrapped themselves from his thighs. Disoriented, DiNozzo sniffled then coughed. He had been crying... screaming. He remembered--

"Just take a minute," Gibbs' quiet voice wafted past his ear from behind. "I swear to god I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax and show me you can keep it together. Okay?"

Okay. Feeling small... young... Tony merely obeyed. It was easier to obey. It didn't hurt as much...

"You with me, Tony?" Gibbs' voice was strained, careful.

DiNozzo drew a deep breath. It was cold. Only Gibbs' warmth held back chilled shivers. "I'm okay," he announced as his mind focused on the present, on what he had done-- Oh shit...

"Okay," Gibbs agreed and let him go, only touching to support as Tony struggled to sit up. "Just lean back. I'm going to get a few things for you and I'll be right back. Don't move."

His back resting against the cold, smooth surface of his shower door, Tony barely nodded as he stared at his knees which he just drew up against his chest. He heard Gibbs stand and move away. Things moved. Water ran. Then a pause.

"Come on, Tony. Let's get you up."

Tony flinched as a hand touched his shoulder. Ashamed and embarrassed he refused to look up. Refused to acknowledge. He had ruined everything... had lost control... and most times control was all he had. "I can handle it from here," he muttered. He wanted Gibbs to leave but he couldn't gather the guts to say so. If Gibbs left he'd be alone...

"We can handle it," Gibbs replied. His hand still rested on Tony's bare shoulder. "Let me help."

Choice. DiNozzo knew he could say no and it would be okay. But he couldn't say no.

"Come on, Tony." The gentle touch became a firm grip followed by another on his other shoulder. "Stand up."

Order. Matter of fact. Tony grunted as he stood, his hands automatically going to his privates, his embarrassment growing ten-fold as his eyes fastened to the floor.

"Here's a towel, Tony."

A large bath towel appeared in his line of vision. Tony sighed as he took it and quickly wrapped it around his waist. Instantly he felt more comfortable in Gibbs presence. "I really could use my robe," he ventured as he glanced up.

Gibbs' eyes were on him, full of concern and purpose. At Tony's comment his lips perked upwards. "I'm going to help clean you off then you can have your robe... or get dressed," he said casually. "The delivery guy should be here by then. Ducky said you needed to eat something and drink lots of fluids... but no alcohol for a couple of days."

DiNozzo wanted to feel comfortable with his boss' care and concern. On some level he was beginning to understand there was significance here. Gibbs was doing something he normally didn't do, even for "on of his own". "I can clean myself off, boss."

"Jethro." Gibbs held out a damp washcloth. "We're not working, Tony. Gibbs is the bastard you work with... I'm not... always."

There was no mistaking the message. There was a time when Tony would have leaped for joy. Now... he stared into Gi-- Jethro's eyes, seeing something he had only seen hints of in the past three years... an emotion that had so many others attached to it. No. He glanced away. "I--"

"Take the cloth," Jethro ordered quietly. "We'll take later... if you want."

Tony wiped down his hands and arms as Gibbs carefully concentrated on his upper back and shoulders, rinsing the cloth he had twice. Tony tried to glance aside, drawn to the sound, curious. But Gibbs' fingers were there to gently stop his head with a silent order for him not to look. Moments passed as he simply stood, letting Gibbs clean his back, relaxing a little at the casual contact... the friendly intimacy. Then he heard something plop on the floor and the washcloth taken out of his own hand.

"Close your eyes."

Gibbs was in front of him, holding up the washcloth he had taken out of Tony's hand. He had an expectant expression on his face. He wants to wash my face. The muscles of Tony's mouth tensed, ready to protest... politely. But the older man's stance was patient, making no move to do other than what he implied he would do. Trust. Gibbs wanted Tony's trust. I trust him. He smiled and closed his eyes.

The cloth was soft, brief and efficient, doing no more than expected yet held a gentle intimacy. Then it was done. Feeling better Tony opened his eyes and barely kept from gasping. Open appreciation. Gibbs eyes were wandering over him. Tony's cheeks tingled and he glanced away, unsure of what he wanted... there was so much. His eyes scanned the floor. The garbage pail had fallen over, spilling his discarded clothes. His underwear lay apart from the chaos. Alone. Drawing attention... reminding him of what had happened...

"I'll take care of this, Tony," his boss said as he put a hand on DiNozzo's shoulder, squeezing hard to get his attention. "Go get dressed. The delivery guy should be here any minute."

Gibbs would pick up his clothes... would see... "Boss, you don't have to pick up after me..."

"Go get dressed." Gibbs' voice was deeper, more Marine-like. Nervously Tony looked at him.

"I--"

"It's all right, Tony," the older man stated without judgment, without assumption. "Really."

Really. DiNozzo shivered. It was cold. He moved, meaning to get the underwear pants. Gibbs didn't need to see--

Hand on his arm stopped him. "It's okay, Tony. Honest. It's all right. I won't look." His boss cocked his head, his gaze direct. "I don't have to."

I don't have to.

Tony screwed his eyes shut, still reaching but held back. "Please," he pleaded, shivering with cold and fear.

Strong hands pulled him. Arms gathered him. Warmth embraced him, holding. Tony sniffled. It was too much. He so wanted Gibbs to hold him but not for the reason he was doing it now... out of pity...

"Boss--"

"Jethro," Gibbs said softly into his ear. "Just let me hold you, Tony. I just want to hold you. I was so afraid I was going to lose you..."

Tony absorbed this as he felt moisture escape down his cheeks. "I'm okay," he muttered as he tried to reassure, taken off guard by the deep emotions in his supervisor's voice. He hesitantly wound his own arms around Jethro as he sought to comfort. "I'm okay."

"I know." Jethro rocked him a little. His calloused hands rubbed over Tony's bare back. "Just let me hold you..."

For several seconds neither man spoke beyond a near silent sob from Tony as he relaxed into the older man's strength... in his own need feel connected to another human being...


*Knock. Knock.*


"Shit."

Tony blinked and pulled back, startled by the muffled noise and Gibbs' quiet curse. He could hardly remember the last time he heard his boss curse. Gibbs' blue eyes were on him, studying him. Hesitant. Tony watched curiously. What was going on? What did Gibbs want?

As if responding to the silent questions, Jethro gave him a tired smile. He raised the washcloth again and wiped at Tony's face, cleansing the skin of stray tears, a gesture that ended with a hint of playfulness as he touched Tony's nose. "Food," he apologized. He quickly scooped up all clothing, a reddened washcloth and the one he had just used into the bathroom's small garbage then tied the plastic liner and took it out. "Get dressed," he ordered as he spared the younger man a glance and left with the sealed bag.

Gone. Tony looked around as he worked to gather his scattered thoughts and emotions. Nothing of the last few minutes... the last few days remained in the bathroom, nothing but a kind of stiffness in the hair on the back of his head and a cruddy feeling at his groin.

Shower. He eyed the stall. He didn't have a tub... didn't want one... hadn't taken a bath since before he was sent away... redeemed... He glanced at himself in the mirror, frowning at the filth, inside and out. He dropped his towel and turned on the water...

"Tony."

DiNozzo jerked as he saw an abstract image appear on the other side of the shower door. He was dirty. He was trying to get clean. "I'm taking a shower," he stated pointedly. He had to get clean... get the filth out...

The image stilled. "You can't take a shower, Tony. Ducky said in a couple of days, when your stitches have closed."

A spark of discomfort then embarrassment tingled through him. He touched his neck. The band-aid Ducky had given him came away on one side and he felt the small sutures, the edges of flesh. He drew in a sharp breath as water flowed freely over the small cut... the knife cut. He had forgotten the Medical Examiner's warning... but he couldn't stop the shower. He was dirty. "I'll be careful, boss," he replied. "I gotta... wash the... shit out of my hair..." He didn't want to say blood... perhaps skin...

There was a moment's silence then the mosaic image shifted. "Let me help you, Tony. Can I open the door?" Pause. "Let me wash your hair... that should do it... right?"

Tony willed himself not to shiver. Some part of him wanted nothing better but- "I can take care of it," he said quickly. "Just let me wash off."

He heard a long sigh on the other side then suddenly cold air rushed in as the door was opened. Gibbs stood fully clothed, his expression neutral, his eyes attentive. "Tony, hand me your shampoo."

Order. Tony stared at the older man, lost. He was naked, exposed. He was dirty...

Gibbs gave him a reassuring nod as he reached in and took the bottle from the shelf above the soap. "Just turn to your side," he said. "And lean your head back. It won't take more than a minute."

Unsettled. Unsure. Yet he trusted... Tony swallowed and turned. A moment later strong fingers closed around his scalp, working efficiently as they spread the soapy substance through his hair, rubbing vigorously at the nape of his neck.

"Step back and rinse, DiNozzo."

Order. Tony refused to think as he obeyed, running his own hands through his hair, feeling the other man's lingering touch through the strands. Believing that at least... there... he was clean.

As Tony raised his head back up the water was turned off. A towel was wrapped around his waist and tucked then a firm hand gripped his arm. "Come on, Tony. Let's get you dry."

Before he could protest he was pulled from the steamy interior out into the bathroom. His face and head were engulfed in a towel that quickly dried, taking care at his neck. "That's going to take longer to close," Gibbs commented without judgment as he carefully pulled the rest of the band-aid off Tony's neck, his finger following to gently sooth.

"Gibbs." Tony tensed as an uncomfortable but not unwelcomed sensation whispered through him. Nervously he pulled away, his eyes everywhere but on man beside him.

"Jethro," Gibbs corrected patiently. "And don't be afraid, Tony. If you don't want me to touch you... I won't, except to make sure you're safe. And you can deal with that on whatever level feels good for you."

Part 4 - Please read warnings in Part 1 and 2


Gibbs fingers brushed Tony's face then the older man mouthed "food" and walked out of the bathroom, leaving clear the silent command. Get dressed and come out to eat.

DiNozzo's skin tingled where he had been touched. Tingled in a way that soothed, excited and unnerved him. On whatever level... Tony knew what it meant, could hardly believe it.

But it would be short lived, he knew. Sometimes he would hide it... for awhile... just to satisfy his need to be close... to have contact. But then the need to be honest would overwhelm him... and it would all end... quietly... sometimes gently... always with pity...

Tony sighed and quickly combed his hair and got dressed; sweat pants, a t-shirt and socks. He came down the long hallway that led from his bedroom to the living area. Gibbs sat on the couch, a piece of pizza in his hand. Food was spread out on the coffee table; a small box of pizza with some toppings and half a sub sandwich still wrapped. There was a bottle of soda next to the sub and coffee next to the pizza box.

"Come on, Tony."

The impatient tone alerted him. Gibbs was looking at him, his expression darker than it had been. Not angry. But not what it had been. He swallowed an apology that almost worked its way through and sat down on the couch next to the older man, conscious of keeping a distance.

They ate in silence. Gibbs polished off two slices in short order. As Tony took his first tentative bite of the Turkey sub he realized he was somewhat hungry and took another then another, washing it all down with the cold soda. But halfway through he noticed Gibbs was staring at him. DiNozzo tried not to squirm as he tried to understand the expression on the older man's face. Then Gibbs smiled. It was small, reassuring, even--

Tony sighed as he put down his food and took one last sip of his soda. He was done. He felt better... physically. Now it was time to set Gibbs straight before things got too deep. As it was he didn't know if he was going to survive the reaction he knew he was going to get... once the other man knew...

"I don't know what happened... with Jeffrey I mean," Tony began quietly as he turned his head away and focused on his half-eaten sandwich.

"You were forced to drink something to maintain your cover," Gibbs said simply, casually. Statement of fact. "It happens, Tony. You know that... though not usually like this." Pause. "Do you want to tell me what you remember?"

Oh. That was easy and disturbing. Tony glanced up at Gibbs, somewhat surprised by the patient expression he saw there. Patient. Gentle. Not like Gibbs, except when the victim was young or suffering. Pity. But Tony needed to talk. Gibbs was willing to listen. And if that was all the contact he could ever get, it was enough.

DiNozzo got up. He had to move. Sitting still was suddenly not an option. "He--" Tony stopped in front of a small curio cabinet, one he kept some of the few thing he care about. Couple of trophies. Two medals he earned while he was a cop in Philadelphia... Baltimore... earned on his own. "Lane was testing me. Wanted me to take a swig of... whatever that was..." Tony swallowed as he remembered the foul liquid in his mouth, burning down his throat, leaving a terrible aftertaste. "He took a drink first so I thought... hoped... it was safe." A tired grin teased his lips. "I don't drink... much. Guess he was used to the stuff..."

"Lane was addicted to it, Tony," Gibbs' tone was forgiving. "Ducky said he had never seen the levels of GHB he found in Lane's system in a living, breathing person. That's one of the reasons he had your blood tested on site. He was afraid you might have had toxic levels. But he said it was metabolizing out of your system at a safe rate."

"I only took a little!" Tony said defensively as he turned, anger suddenly appearing and rising within him. "I didn't have a choice!"

Gibbs raised his hands in a calming her gesture. "Tony, I just said you didn't." He shrugged. "It happened to me... but not like you... like this..."

"What happened?" Tony winced as he heard the sharp tone in his own voice. His ability to control his emotions were eroding again. "Sor--"

"Don't!" Gibbs took a step closer. "Don't apologize! It's okay, Tony. I'm not your supervisor and you're not my subordinate here. I'm your friend... if you want me to be. Okay?"

There it was again... that hint of pleading. Puzzled Tony took a deep breath then another, forcing calm over his raging thoughts. "What happened?" he tried again as he worked to collect himself.

Gibbs shrugged again, dismissively. "When I first started with NCIS I was undercover. There was cocaine trafficking and we needed to find the highest terd in the food chain. I was suppose to be a low life middle man and the supplier thought I might be a fake." His face twisted into disgust. "Had to take some... had to trust them not to do anything to me while I was under. I don't remember everything but apparently I passed some test. We got the bad guy."

Tony stared at Gibbs, shocked. When Ari shot Gibbs the older man refused pain medications until Ducky had a 'talk' with him. It was hard to imagine his boss taking something mind-altering much less illegal. But when undercover all kinds of shit happened... all kinds...

"Tony."

DiNozzo shook himself, pushing the whispers back, past and present. He felt better and in better control. Gibbs' revelation helped... a little. "Can't imagine you high, boss," he said in a teasing tone.

Gibbs gave him a rye smile. "Neither can I. I spent days with nasal spray trying to get that feeling out." He cocked his head. "But nothing happened, Tony. Something happened to you. I just want to be sure you're all right and I want to listen, if you'll tell me. Nothing you tell me will go beyond us... except perhaps to Ducky... and only enough to be sure you're all right."

Set up. Rage flowed through Tony before he really had a chance to hold back. Set up. "So that's what," he spread his hands apart, "this is all about? Showing me the softer side of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs so I'll spill my guts then you get to report back to the old man about--"

"Tony."

"Fuck you!" He slammed his hand into the curio cabinet, cursing as his trophies toppled, feeling only a little relief as nothing broke. "You want to know what happened? Fine!" Darkness enveloped him as he let the scant memories come. "I knew minutes after I drank that battery acid that it was the wrong thing to do. But I couldn't do anything about it!" He glared at Gibbs who seemed to have gained the good sense to take a step back and watch. "Then... Jeffrey... touched me." His eyes began to burn but he didn't care any more. He would have his tirade then throw Gibbs out so his soon-to-be former supervisor could finish his mission and get back to the Medical Examiner. "He sucked me off. But I didn't think it was him!" He met the older man's gaze. "I thought it was you!" He turned away, unwilling to have the older man witness the final melt down. "I came in his mouth because I thought it was you... because I thought--"

"It's okay..."

"It's not okay!" Tony's hands were tight fists as he fought not to strike out. "It's not fucking okay! I never meant for you to know anything! Just my little fantasy! My little warped dream! Because I know that even if you vaguely felt the same way it would never work! Not once you knew--"

His words came to an abrupt halt as years of training warned him of the line he was crossing; the one between pretending it never happened and revealing everything. "Get out, Gibbs," he ordered then drew a deep breath to force calm into his mind. It wasn't Gibbs fault. It wasn't anyone's fault... now. "Tell Dr. Mallard I'm fine. Like I said to him... been there... done that... got the t-shirt... burned it..." He saw a knowing glint flash in Gibbs' eyes. //Shit.// "Just go," he demanded again.

"This happened to you before?" Gibbs tone was stunned.

//Double shit.// Tony shook from the inside. His inner self began to slowly fragment. There was no escape. Gibbs wouldn't allow it. "Not like this, boss. It was a long time ago." Memory taunted him. There were all the warning signs... the night had started out too calmly. He had gotten the drink wrong... forgotten to remind him to pick up his favorite scotch on the way home. He had been forgiven... the first bad sign...

"How old were you?"

Tony turned away as he closed his eyes. No escape. All would be revealed. //Probably better this way... he'll go feeling he had done me some good... listening... and I can go on. He'll give me a good referral... I hope...// "Eleven."


He didn't know... didn't understand the first time. The abuse had been always. He accepted he was at fault somehow. Not fast enough... smart enough... failing time and again. But that night had been different... deeper.... lasting...


"Your parents?" Gibbs asked shortly, carefully.

Torture. The few in his life who discovered or to whom he chose to tell would do this as if getting the information in pieces would make the telling easier. Tony heard his bedroom door open. No smell... just... him... "My father." Never 'Dad' or 'Pop'... just Father...

"He beat you?" Gibbs asked, his voice closer... direct.

"Sometimes... until I laid him out when I was fifteen... just after my last growing spurt." His eyes opened and locked on the fallen objects in his cabinet. "That's when he stopped."

"Stopped?" Gibbs pressed gently. "You mean hitting you?"

"No." The room was freezing cold. Tony wrapped his arms around himself, knowing it would be over in a moment. Then he could go on... alone. "No."

"Did he... hurt you?"

Laughter escaped DiNozzo's lips before he could stop it. Euphemisms... had to love them. "Hurt?" Trembling. He never trembled before... why was this one harder than the rest? They hadn't even slept together. Until now it had been harder after he slept with them. "No, boss," he managed finally. "He didn't "hurt" me... he raped me. Hurt was what he did when he beat the shit out of me before he raped me." He screwed his eyes shut. This was painful... more painful than he expected. But he knew he needed to finish. "Though most of the time he just beat me and called me scum. That's when he was drunk... when he couldn't get it up. Rape only happened when he was sober." Deep breath. "Used to keep a bottle his favorite whiskey under my bed. Sometimes it worked."

Gibbs presence drew closer. "Where was your mother?" the older man demanded, anger lacing his tone.

"My mother never saw a thing," he said plainly. Common question. Simple answer. Oddly that calmed him. "Not something she could cope with, you know? In fact when I finally beat the shit out of my father the two of them acted like I'd just grown horns and gone insane. I was enrolled in Rhode Island Military Academy where I kept less than stellar grades but had the time of my life."

Silence. Expected. Tony waited, shivering. Next would be the words of sympathy. The obvious questions. How had he survived it? Had he ever had counseling? They could help... with that. Caring. Concern. What a stranger would do for a dog. They didn't understand. They never understood. Gibbs wouldn't understand.

"Fucking rat bastard."

Unexpected. Tony's vision blurred with moisture as the words struck a fatal blow to his heart. Jethro Leroy Gibbs stood at near attention in front of him, his hands curled into fists as if forced to remain at his side, his expression clearly showing poorly concealed rage. Tony took a step back, flinching as his shoulder bumped the glass cabinet. Sometimes his father would have that look, just before...

Instantly Gibbs' expression softened, his body posture relaxed. "God! I'm not going to hurt you, Tony! I'd never hurt you! I love you."

Love. The sharp shift of perception almost made him faint. No one, after hearing, ever said those words. Suspicious he glared at the older man. "How can you love me?" I'm damaged... soiled...

Gibbs' lips turned up. His blue eyes sparked with obvious desire as they traveled over Tony. "How can I not?" He held out his hand. "It's okay, Tony."

Okay. DiNozzo stared at the hand, uncertain. His instinct was to leave... to make Gibbs leave. His soul-deep gut told him to reach out. "I'm bad news, boss," he warned. "Too much baggage."

Jethro Gibbs stepped closer, still holding out his hand. "We all have something we carry around inside, Tony. I've been married three times and I've had other... relationships. None of them worked out for reasons I'm willing to share with you if you want to know... just like you've shared with me." He gestured with his out-stretched fingers. "Come on, Tony. Trust me."

Tony swallowed the lump in his throat. That odd pleading was back in Gibbs'... Jethro's... voice. Choice. Gibbs wanted him. For real. But it was his choice. Decision. Tony reached out and gripped Jethro's hand. "I'm sorr--"


Before he could finish he was pulled against Jethro in a steel-hard embrace. "Don't ever," the older man hissed in his ear, his voice suspiciously unsteady; "ever apologize for this! Understand?"

In reaction DiNozzo allowed the sob to escape him, the tears to fall freely. He wrapped himself around Gibbs, expressing his need for contact. Part of him was still appalled by his lack of control, his breakdown. But his soul took what was offered... the warmth and comfort. He wanted to trust... to know he could really let go... but this was good for the moment... so good...

"I'm here, Tony. I'm not going anywhere." Strong arms rocked Tony. Strong hands soothed over Tony's back and threaded through the back of his hair, supporting.

Tony believed him. He let the tears come until they ebbed. Then he simply held on, sniffling, tired. After a long time Gibbs moved, pushing Tony back, his own blue eyes bloodshot. His shirt was soaked where Tony had laid his head. "I'm-"

Gibbs' hand covered Tony's mouth. "We're going to talk," he ordered quietly. His fingers brushed over Tony's cheek, wiping away the stray tears then took DiNozzo's hand. "Come on."

Tony allowed Jethro to guide him to the couch and sat down. Gibbs sat next to him, close but not crowding. Jethro smiled at him and handed him a napkin. Tony managed a smile of his own and wiped his face. He picked up bottle of soda and took a couple of swallows. He felt oddly cleansed. He opened the half eaten turkey sub and picked up a slice of meat. He was hungry... a little...

Gibbs was silent as he also took some of his beer and a bite of now cold pizza. His eyes wandered over Tony but his expression was patient... waiting...

Talk. Uncharted territory. No one wanted to talk... afterwards. They made sympathetic noises, remained long enough to assuage their own guilt then they were gone. One or two called later or the next day. Then... nothing...

Gibbs was beside him, waiting. Tony sighed as he tried to gather his thoughts. "I... um... when I went to the academy it was like being cut free. I got into a lot of trouble... couldn't quite fit into the military mind set." He grinned as Gibbs snorted. "But I had this great guidance counselor. She taught me how to trust... sometimes. Proved it to me when she kept her promise not to tell when I told her about my wonderful, upper middle class upbringing on Long Island. Because even back then, the reporting of child abuse was mandatory too."

Gibbs' brow wrinkled. "Your parents was never prosecuted?" Tony shook his head as he glanced away. "Why didn't you want your father to pay for what he did?"

Tony shrugged, his gaze fixed on what remained of their food on the coffee table. "Because while I was tossing my father on the floor and kicking his balls I decided I wasn't going to let them take away the one thing I had left... my own life. If my parents were charged then it would have been in the papers... on the news. My father is not a sought out public figure but he's high enough on the food chain that something like this could have made for some pretty titillating stories that would have brought big ratings on one of the New York stations or even CNN."

Tony shrugged. "As I stopped just short of sending my dear father to the hospital, I realized if the police got involved I'd never be free of them. So as soon as I could I cut the strings, got a scholarship and took up Physical Education in college. Then I sent a letter to my wonderful parents letting them know that dad's plan to keep me straight had backfired terribly and that if they ever tried to contact me in anyway I'd write a book and sell it to the highest bitter because I had pictures and proof." His cheeks tingled with some embarrassment. "Of course I don't... but he doesn't know that."

Silence blanketed the room. Gibbs frowned. "What?" Tony asked, suddenly worried. Was the older man having second--

"Tony." Gibbs laid a hand on DiNozzo's thigh, his gaze becoming intent. "You don't know?"

"Know what?" Something stirred in his gut. "Gi-- Jethro?"

Gibbs licked his lips, his grip on DiNozzo tightened gently. "Tony, during the background check we did on you I had to contact your parents. Your mother said she hadn't seen you in several years but knew you to be a good man." Gibbs hesitated then added; "Your father had passed away the year before... heart attack. I assumed then there were issues with your family but it wasn't part of why I wanted you so I didn't want to violate your privacy and left it alone. I thought, even with distance, you knew... about your father."

"No." Dead. Reality shifted in a disturbing fashion. Tony closed his eyes as his perceptions dissolved, changed and realigned. "I didn't know." His father was dead. The shadow lifted away, leaving an odd void...

Gibbs' arms were around him again, pulling. Tony let himself snuggle into the warmth, for the first time inhaling the scent of the older man. He shivered as he felt Jethro's lips on his head, kissing. Tony raised his head up as he sensed Gibbs' lips descending again, smiling as those lips awkwardly landed on his nose then withdrew.

"No... Jethro... don't." He gripped the back of Gibbs' head, forcing him back down. "Kiss me... please..."

Gibbs' hesitated a moment then breath escaped him as he quickly rearranged his arms around Tony and his lips descended. The kiss was nearly everything he wanted... needed... almost...

"Jethro." A thread of angst filtered through Tony as Gibbs immediately drew back as if burned. "No."

"I don't want to hurt you," Gibbs said firmly, his tone strained. His fingers combed through Tony's hair.

Tony sat up and faced the older man, some irritation wandering through him. Even anger. "Don't do that!"

"Do what?" Jethro seemed completely baffled and concerned. "Tony-"

DiNozzo grabbed Gibbs' shirtfront and pulled him forward so their faces were only an inch apart. "What do you want?"

Confusion dominated Jethro's face. "Want?"

Tony almost let go, almost decided that even Leroy Jethro Gibbs could fail a test. But then he decided this man was important enough to get a second chance. "I'm not broken, Gibbs! Lots of shit happened to me but I'm not broken! What do you want?"

It took a long moment but understanding lit Jethro's eyes... understanding... and desire. "I want to make love to you," he said with gentle passion.

He understands... Tony leaned forward and kissed his lover. "Then make love to me, Jethro," he commanded as his lips moved to Gibbs' neck. "Just don't treat me like I'm broken... like the others." His body began to tingle as Jethro's hands moved with more intimacy over his shoulders and down his back, as the older man's strength began to show his need to dominate. "It's okay to fuck me, Jethro," he said breathlessly. "It's okay to control this... I want that... from you."

Gibbs didn't speak but his body did for him. Tony found himself on his back with Gibbs straddling his hips, unmistakable passion aflame in his eyes. "Ducky wanted to look you over before I--" His hands rubbed over Tony's shirt. The hardness of his cock pressed against Tony's arousal through the pants they wore. "I want you everyway I can have you... anyway you'll let me... but--"

"I'm okay." Wayward emotions flooded through Tony again, challenging his patience, his doubts and fears. But he ruthlessly kept himself above the temptation to explode. Instead his hips pressed up against Gibbs, demanding stimulation as a way to channel the tension. "Promise I'm okay. He didn't... hurt me. Swear." Lust flashed through him. "Make love to me, Jethro," he demanded. "Make the shadows stay away..."

Gibbs leaned forward and captured Tony's mouth in his. DiNozzo sobbed... once... then returned the passion without thought... ignoring, for the moment, the whispers that lurked in the shadows...

END (for the moment... don't know what I'm going to do with this...)